take notice that he was speaking to the Spanish Ambassador, who had strong reasons for wishing to see the persons in question.  The innkeeper said they wished not to be known, and that they had absolutely forbidden him to admit anybody into their apartment who did not ask for them by name; but that, since the Ambassador desired it, he would show him their room.  He then conducted them up to a dirty, miserable garret.  He knocked at the door, and waited for some time; he then knocked again pretty, loudly, upon which the door was half-opened.  At the sight of the Ambassador and his suite, the person who opened it immediately closed it again, exclaiming that they, had made a mistake.  The Ambassador pushed hard against him, forced his way, in, made a sign to his people to wait outside, and remained in the room.  He saw before him a very handsome young man, whose appearance perfectly, corresponded with the description, and a young woman, of great beauty, and remarkably fine person, whose countenance, form, colour of the hair, etc., were also precisely those described by the Count of Moncade.  The young man spoke first.  He complained of the violence used in breaking into the apartment of a stranger, living in a free country, and under the protection of its laws.  The Ambassador stepped forward to embrace him, and said, ’It is useless to feign, my dear Count; I know you, and I do not come here—­to give pain to you or to this lady, whose appearance interests me extremely.’  The young man replied that he was totally mistaken; that he was not a Count, but the son of a merchant of Cadiz; that the lady was his wife; and, that they were travelling for pleasure.  The Ambassador, casting his eyes round the miserably furnished room, which contained but one bed, and some packages of the shabbiest kind, lying in disorder about the room, ’Is this, my dear child (allow me to address you by a title which is warranted by my tender regard for your father), is this a fit residence for the son of the Count of Moncade?’ The young man still protested against the use of any such language, as addressed to him.  At length, overcome by the entreaties of the Ambassador, he confessed, weeping, that he was the son of the Count of Moncade, but declared that nothing should induce him to return to his father, if he must abandon a woman he adored.  The young woman burst into tears, and threw herself at the feet of the Ambassador, telling him that she would not be the cause of the ruin of the young Count; and that generosity, or rather, love, would enable her to disregard her own happiness, and, for his sake, to separate herself from him.  The Ambassador admired her noble disinterestedness.  The young man, on the contrary, received her declaration with the most desperate grief.  He reproached his mistress, and declared that he would never abandon so estimable a creature, nor suffer the sublime generosity of her heart to be turned against herself.  The Ambassador told him that the Count of Moncade was